When Rosetta opened her eyes in the morning, she was surprised to realize that her physical condition had improved. After two days of a battle-like struggle, her body had finally adapted to the sea. Though a lingering sensation of nausea remained like residual heat. Still, the fact that she no longer felt the urge to jump overboard rather than stay on the ship was a great achievement.

Rosetta gulped down a few sips of water from her canteen and pulled her travel bag from under the bed. Inside the bag were a few clothes she had packed herself and some spare undergarments. She hurriedly shed her sweat-soaked clothes and wiped her body down with a towel dampened with water from the canteen. On the sea, where fresh water was scarce, even this felt like an extravagant luxury.

With the help of a maid, Rosetta put on a tunic and pants. Over the tunic, she wore a leather protector that wrapped from under her chest to her waist, and she tied the pant legs with leather straps. She roughly combed her hair with her hands and tied it up high, feeling truly as if she had returned to the days of the Red Dawn.

The moment she felt her body was alright, hunger struck fiercely. Having eaten nothing but honeyed water for nearly two days, she desperately craved something to chew. Rosetta stepped out of the cabin and headed toward the smell of food. A few sailors bowed to her in greeting as they saw her.

“You’re finally out. How’s the seasickness?”

Turner, who was tearing into some meat with the sailors on the deck, recognized her and called out. His skin, tanned bronze under the sunlight over the past few days, looked like well-baked bread.

“It’s getting better. You, on the other hand… look awfully well?”

Somehow, even his smug face seemed like proof that he’d been eating well and thriving while she was fighting for her life, which irritated her. Perhaps catching the unspoken meaning in her words, Turner grinned even more shamelessly.

“The pay’s good, the food’s tasty. No reason to complain. If the weather stays this clear, it’ll be perfect.”

Rosetta snorted. He might not see it, but storm clouds were gathering behind the blazing sunlight. It would pour heavily from evening to dawn. When she waved her hand dismissively, telling him to stop talking nonsense, Turner pushed out the chair he’d been sitting on.

“Sit. I’ll grab you some food.”

Rosetta didn’t refuse and took the seat. She didn’t know why he was being so kind without expecting anything in return, but it was better to accept what was offered. Soon, Turner returned with a small bowl. Rosetta was shocked once at the bowl thrust in front of her, twice at its contents, and three times at Turner’s triumphant expression.

“….”

“….”

“What the heck is this?”

“Soup.”

“Do I look like I don’t know? It’s all just greens!”

The broth was so watery it barely needed a spoon. Was this soup or just water that had vegetables dipped in it? Rosetta stared longingly at the meat Turner had been eating. Catching her gaze, Turner pushed the bowl of turkey dish away and said,

“Eating greasy stuff right after getting up will upset your stomach more.”

Damn it. His instincts were annoyingly sharp. Giving up, Rosetta brought the bowl to her lips and slurped it down. The soup went down without anything to get stuck between her teeth. Though she’d dismissed it as just greens, it had a surprisingly savory flavor. Smacking her lips, Rosetta handed back the empty bowl.

“No other ships have come near, have they? With the admiral’s flag up, pirates would steer clear, but you never know. Some might hold a grudge and come after us.”

“None. Not a single ship besides ours in the last three days.”

“What? No way!”

“See for yourself.”

Turner pointed to the lookout tower behind him. Rosetta felt half-overwhelmed by its dizzying height. Normally, she would’ve climbed the ladder confidently, but her distrust in this body—Lea’s body—was considerable. If her old body as Rosetta was a 10, this one, even at its strongest, was barely a 2.

So, assuming she had to take Turner’s word for it… it was indeed quite strange. Even if merchant ships were stocking up for war, the closer they got to the Maritime Alliance, the more pirate ships should appear.

Not a single one? Had the route gone off course? Rosetta hurriedly pulled a compass from her pocket and checked. The needle, spinning briefly, settled on the southwest. Thankfully, the route hadn’t deviated.

“Where’s Melvin?”

“Want me to fetch him?”

“Yeah. Do you know where he is?”

“Either at the lookout or on the upper deck. Hang on.”

Rosetta chuckled at Turner, who obediently stood up. It wasn’t like him to act like an errand boy, so her illness must have worried him quite a bit. Well, nothing saps your strength like the person paying you collapsing before the job’s done. She called out to him as he was already walking away.

“Turner!”

At her call, Turner turned his head. Grinning, Rosetta pulled a platinum coin from her pocket and flicked it toward him. The coin arced through the air, glinting in the light. He caught it with one hand, his cheeks flushing as he grumbled.

“Hey, what’s that for….”

“What?”

“You think I’m some money-grubber?”

“If you’re going to say that, give the coin back first.”

“I’ll be right back.”

The route was correct. After half a day of sailing, Baltan Island came into view. From there, the currents grew turbulent, and the challenge was to gently circle the island halfway and fix the route northwest. Even Rosetta was called to pull the sail ropes, and with several sturdy sailors rowing, they managed to stabilize the course.

By evening, rain poured down heavily. The raindrops struck the ship’s hull so fiercely that she worried it might punch holes through. Meanwhile, the sailors, delighted by the rare freshwater, stripped down and scrubbed themselves with soap. Rosetta, however, was stuck in her cabin. Melvin and Turner had insisted.

The rain stopped the next morning at dawn. Plagued by severe insomnia since Cardier’s disappearance, Rosetta had been restlessly rolling on her bed. As soon as the rain ceased, she decided to go outside. Being cooped up in the cabin with a perfectly fine body was driving her mad.

She draped a large shawl over her tunic, cautiously opened the cabin door, and stepped onto the deck. Not a single sailor, not even the ship’s rat-catching cat, was in sight. It seemed only the lookout and she were awake.

And at that moment, the sun began to rise in the distance.

“Wow….”

Rosetta gazed at the horizon in strange awe. The sun emerged at the boundary where the clouds had cleared, meeting the sea.

As the gentle sunlight illuminated the ocean, it shimmered with golden waves. It looked like a tapestry woven with tiny fish scales. Leaning close to the railing, Rosetta took in all the sights she had once loved so fiercely. The gnawing anxiety seemed to ease, if only slightly.

But that relief was fleeting. Thinking of Cardier brought a sharp pain to her chest, along with a rush of anxiety.

Rosetta believed Cardier was unharmed, not even a scratch. She had to believe that, or she wouldn’t be able to stand upright and pretend to be fine. Then, she spotted a faint shadow beyond the horizon. Shading her eyes, she squinted.

“What… is that?”

With clearer vision, she saw it was a thick, storm-like gray mist. Rosetta instinctively knew the Maritime Alliance—the graveyard of ships—wasn’t far. That place always brought an inexplicable fog.

As she climbed onto the railing and leaned out to observe more closely, a voice called out.

“Uh, milady.”

Startled, Rosetta turned around. It was a large man. Who was he again? His face seemed slightly more familiar than the average sailor’s. Noticing her wary gaze, the man scratched the back of his head and introduced himself.

“Oh, uh… don’t you remember? I’m Hugo. Lieutenant Montrosa’s adjutant….”

“Oh!”

Realization hit her, and Rosetta stomped her foot. Now she remembered clearly. Cardier’s naval adjutant. He’d heard she was leading a rescue team and had begged to be taken along, clinging to her skirts. A big guy like him, sobbing his eyes out.

He’d missed the last mission due to a shoulder injury, and with his superior and peers all missing, his guilt was immense. As was typical for those lucky enough to survive. He’d sworn to follow any route and keep secrets just to board the ship. Squinting slightly against the intense sunlight, Rosetta asked,

“What’s the matter?”